Where the Wind Goes
by watchmedrown
Summary: Angsty, Mostly Pietro centered. Character deaths. R/R, tell me how it makes you feel. My first try at character murdering.


Author's Note: AU, Pietro joined Magneto because he had no choice, and day of reckoning never happened. This is what happens when you really feel like killing a character. No I don't hate Pietro; he's actually my favorite character. This is an okay fic, my first angsty so I really need feedback if it makes you sad it has served its purpose.  
  
  
Pietro had always been good at lying. He had learned long ago from his father's jeers and insults that it was better to seem invincible than weak. He could still recall the way his mind had slid out of reality the first time his father had raped him, because his mind always seemed to wander to that place. It was the night they'd taken Wanda from him. His father had crept into his room, carefully taken Pietro out of his bed. It had not been gentle, but rather rough. It lead to many nights slept away from home, nights of creeping out the window. Nights like tonight. He hadn't found this way of helping mend the pain until the third time.   
  
Pietro blamed himself for everything that had happened. He always had, anything that went wrong. Lance was responsible for them, but he was the one who felt it when they failed. Never measuring up in his father's eyes, or his own, he constantly tried to prove himself to others. And he rarely won, usually sabotaging himself, to prove to himself that he was indeed worthless.  
  
Pietro opened the drawer as quietly as possible. His face showed only a calm peace, lifeless, like his eyes as he pushed away neatly folded designer clothing to study the contents at the bottom. Everyone was on edge at the Brotherhood home, everyone listening for the smallest hint of danger. No one slept, but all attempted to cover that fact. They all pretend things were fine. But the fact was they had all been stupid children. Half-heartedly preparing for a war they never imagined taking place. The worst they had ever dreamed of was an all out fight with the X-Men, but nothing serious enough to cause actual physical damage beyond a few broken bones.  
  
Evan had been the first to die when the war between the X-Men and brotherhood finally came. No big loss there, true he had felt an inkling of sorrow. But it was only Evan Daniels, and the world was better off without him. Still, he had spent many a night thinking about that stupid boy, as had the rest of the brotherhood. After that first battle, Rogue rejoined the Brotherhood, and Tabitha was killed in a car crash. A fitting death for her perhaps. They received new members, and built on to the house.   
  
Word got around that Mystique and Magneto were dead, nothing to confirm this ever shown. But it was enough for them. Everything was fine after that for awhile though, and they all became somewhat normal, happy teenagers. Rogue and Pietro became good friends, talking, laughing, and occasionally having sex. (A.N. remember I said AU, play the pretend game with me she could control her powers) But then something changed.  
  
The world became darker, much like during Hitler's reign. And all-out war created and truce among all mutants. It was no longer fun and games, it was survival. No more casually using powers in public. And when time came to fight the soldiers and the sentinels, everyone wore masks. Because once the enemy knows who you are, no one can save you. That's when life really became hell. The skies became dark from battles, and the fight was no longer local, it became a world war.   
  
Rogue was the second to die, this time a car bomb exploded about 20 feet in front of her, intended for some politician who supported mutant's rights. Pietro had been close enough to be momentarily deafened by the sound. To see Rogue's flesh torn from her body as shrapnel and fire ripped into her, causing her to scream. But he couldn't hear it. They'd buried pictures and some belongings with her body, because there had been nothing left to bury.   
  
Then came Toad's death, smashed by a sentinel with a sickening squishing sound. Like a bug being stepped on, except much more blood. That sound kept them all up at night, and no one as of yet had bothered to rid the house of any type of pests that made that sound when killed.  
  
X-men died more than the Brotherhood, foolishly throwing themselves into situations that were hopeless. They were ruled by Ororo now, as Professor Xavier had died protecting them all. The entire building had collapsed on top of him. Jean, Scott, Kurt, Kitty, all dead. Others that he couldn't even put names to. Three years since the war began. And the humans had the upper hand. For no matter how powerful the mutants were, they were outnumbered. He had no idea where Wanda was, nor did he care that much. She was no long his sister, her mind so frayed that she wasn't even a being really.   
  
Pietro's eyes were marbles now. Only reflecting the emotions of those around him. The other's were doing okay he supposed as the beginning rays of sunlight passed through the glass and began to play with the shadows on his bed. He reached into the drawer and pulled out the knife he kept very, very sharp for occasions such as this. He'd become very good at hiding his scars. The jagged ones on his back his father had so lovingly given him to him. The deep knife wounds on his stomach and legs. He took the knife to his wrist, and thought about cutting shallowly, like he usually did. He pressed the tip of the knife over a vein and without thinking pressed down roughly and slowly slide the blade down his arm savoring the pain as the flesh tore upon. He barely even felt the pain, but he didn't care anymore. The world was hell, and Rogue was gone. Most were gone, and those that weren't soon would be. Life was meaningless and hopeless for him now.  
  
He watched as thick blood poured down his arm, splattering onto the floor. Like the blood of his fallen friends had occasionally. Funny how the others seemed to cope so well with the loss, but he guessed by now they were all pretty good at lying. He slashed out again, blindly, breaking open flesh. The halves fell open, and he could see what looked like bone peeking out at him. God it hurt, but in his mind he deserved. He lashed out again, this time his other wrist. Crimson blood was pouring onto the floor, and he was crying now. Shaking, teeth chattering, he was becoming very cold. He knew they wouldn't dare take him to the hospital should they happen upon him. Too many genetic tests, they would never see him again. Better to die by his own hand then tortured and mutilated by men in masks. Maybe they'd take him to Beast. He slumped against the wall and watched the sun's rays creep up upon him, growing colder and colder. He started to feel very sleepy. The blood was coating him in warmth, but he couldn't feel it…  
  
*********  
Lance knew something was wrong. Pietro just hadn't been acting like himself. His eyes had looked duller than usual. He walked Pietro's door intending to have what he hoped would be a fruitful heart to heart with the shattered boy. He knocked lightly, no answer. Something wasn't right. He opened the door gently so as not to wake the others. The first thing he noticed was the pool of blood on the floor, then to his right Pietro slumped against the wall. He stood, stunned, his legs suddenly becoming rubbery. His mouth was suddenly dry, he knelt down beside Pietro.  
  
"Pietro, Pietro wake up! God please wake up!" Lance whispered fiercly, and Pietro stirred slightly. The last rays of light engulfed the room, and he got a good look at Pietro's wrists. Pietro was in another place. He saw no images like he had hoped, no white light, no reunion with Rogue. He only felt the sinking sensation as h ewas falling into the darkness. Lance silently began to pray ad he frantically woke the others. Meanwhile Pietro became so very cold. And like so many countless, nameless others, he simply faded into oblivion.  
****   
Just another death, no great loss. But it was to the Brotherhood. It tore them apart. Sobbing, the remaining members of the X-Men and brotherhood stood around Pietro's coffin. He'd asked once that they bury him beside Rogue, and they had. And soon, the Brotherhood joined that row of gravestones, followed by the X-Men. With no hope left, the mutants of the world lost the war. Shuffled into concentration camps, used in genetic experiments, mutants outside of government facilities became nonexistent. No great loss in the eyes of many.  
  
  
  
  
Author's Note: When I wrote this at 1 am I really felt like killing a character. I was listening to The Shroud- Go Where the Wind Blows you can download it free at amazon.com…. here are the lyrics  
  
Where The Wind Goes  
Look away I know you're leaving me Your words sharp as daggers Cut me free  
Hollow inside No feelings to hold me down  
I'll go where the wind goes Nothing will tether me I'll go where the wind goes Nothing can hold me  
You are gone And I am wandering Under the starry sky Silently  
Hollow inside No feelings to hold me down  
I'll go where the wind goes Nothing will tether me I'll go where the wind goes Nothing can hold me I'll go where the wind goes Nothing will hurt me I'll go where the wind goes Nothing can hold me I'll go I'll go I'll go where the wind goes... 


End file.
